Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Post-Party Depression

Throwing everything back into my suitcases, leaving Plum Island, and navigating a couple rounds of goodbye hugs yesterday was hard. After waiting an extra hour to get back to Seattle (my connecting flight was late), I felt strangely let down seeing Rob at the airport. Here he was, my normal. The long weekend was over. I think I was just getting used to being on vacation when it ended.

Goodbye to all that.

I felt fine this morning (rested, even), and wished I'd had a video camera running when Rob brought Westley into the bedroom. Westley was practically luminous with delight at seeing me, and proceeded to point out my facial features and name them--eyes, eyebrows, nose, mouth--before cuddling up to my breast. But shortly afterwards, there was coffee, diapers, Sesame Street, Brio-building, a trip to the fruit market, and the realization that this was the routine and I was back in it. I started to feel deflated, depressed, fatigued.

I was hoping I'd return from my vacation feeling refreshed and ready to dive back into the Mommy thing head-first. Instead, I'm mildly sunburned, very itchy (from two kinds of bug bites), and exhausted. I keep whining inside my head. I don't want to wash diaper covers. I don't want to plan meals for the week. I want to drink a glass of wine at 2 PM and talk over hours of non-consecutive episodes of Grey's Anatomy. I'm actually starting to annoy myself.

Yes, I wore sunscreen. I even reapplied.

I'm giving myself today to mourn the end of the party atmosphere. I get to spend the next 10 or so hours missing my girlfriends and the beach house and the late-night discussions of home renovations and changing careers and post-feminism. And then I'm kicking my miserable ass and getting proactive. There's no teleportation yet, so I can't beam myself to the three other corners of the country for Wednesday coffee dates or Sunday dinners. But I'm setting up phone dates and sending more e-mails and collecting current mailing addresses.

Because once every two years is not nearly enough.

August 2007

August 2009

***
Vacation reflections and highlights still to come, when I feel more rested and when I've had a chance to sort through I don't know how many photos. But first? Unpacking.

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3 comments:

hoppytoddle said...

Awww!

Welcome Back! I missed you!

I'm currently searching for the gumption to get up, finish emptying the dishwasher & make dinner, if it makes you feel any better.

Melissa said...

If it makes you feel any better, I was so cranky at being back that I threw a minor hissy fit at work today and told my boss I might quit if his boss did something I didn't like. I really, seriously did. LE had to talk me out of it. And then I sent LE an email ranting about a NYT article. I am annoyed at my dogs for wanting my attention and my husband for only doing half of the housework and my husband for not being interested in a feminist rant.

And two years is too long. We'll have to come to you soon. I'll start watching the plane fares.

Amber, The Unlikely Mama said...

We missed you around these parts, but I'm so glad you were able to get away.

How's Westley's feeding going now that you're back? It sounds like you didn't have to wean like you were afraid of :-)